


Eternity

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human AI, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delta parcels the world out in units of time. Except with York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a request for RvB Happy Hour

Three minutes to untangle himself from the mass of legs and arms they became when they fell asleep after sex. A minute to get dressed in the bare minimum he allows himself before slipping from the bedroom. Another five minutes in the shower, perfectly efficient without his lover to complicate things.

Ten minutes to slip back into the bedroom, dress for the day, and sneak back out. Eight seconds spared in the middle of that to look and adore the way his lover’s face is so relaxed, so smooth, so perfect despite the scars spidering out around his left eye. One second on the usual cursing whatever higher being that might be out there for daring to mark him like that, daring to hurt him, daring for even a moment to try and break him.

Coffee takes ten minutes on its own, but not because it’s complicated. The brew time is just frustratingly long, but that is what matters here and now, getting the coffee made despite the fact that all he wants is a bagel. The smell fills the apartment within three minutes of starting, and he hears the groaning that foretells a waking. Shuffling starts by the seven minute point. York is there, leaning naked against the counter at eleven minutes on the dot.

“You’re the best, D,” York says in that low, rough voice that he always seemed to have on waking that was a touch too close to his bedroom voice for comfort.

Delta just smiles and pushes the prepared mug over the counter, delights in the faint smile that struggles to curve York’s lips, and shudders like he always does when York literally _moans_ as he takes that first sip.

“You are useless without your coffee,” Delta observes, not bothering to point out he enjoys the slight forward press of hips that happens when York gets that first sip of coffee in the morning.

“More useless without you,” York returns almost immediately and Delta just shakes his head before turning for the fridge. He still has fifteen minutes before he needs to get moving for work, everything is playing out exactly as their schedule dictates. York will linger here for another hour, slowly waking as he forces more and more caffeine into his system. Delta will be through his first mound of paperwork before York makes it out of the apartment. But that is a while from now, and with York aware and moving Delta can deal with his own needs.

“I am well aware,” Delta agrees as he opens the fridge to fish out the things he intends to slather over his morning bagel.

York doesn’t respond, but he moves right on schedule. Delta has barely managed to pull himself out of the fridge and the bosenberry preserves are in one hand and the cream cheese in the other as York grabs him by the shoulder, turns him around, and presses him hard against the freezer door. The fridge slams closed as York leans in and seizes his lips in a kiss that burns as much from the heat of the coffee he had been drinking as from the passion, the want, the possession behind the kiss.

Ten seconds to kiss. Ten seconds to feel a tongue stroking his, fingers digging into his hips, a pleased hum in York’s voice, and a clear sign of arousal from his lover pressing into his thigh.

No, not ten seconds, an eternity. Delta moans and clings tightly to the cream cheese and bosenberry preserves and doesn’t time it even though he knows exactly how long it is because it feels like _forever_. Which is important. Because every other bit of his life has been parceled out, second by second, minute by minute, day by day, _except York_. Never York. Time doesn’t seem to flow properly around York when there are hands on his hips and lips on his mouth and a hungry chuckle low in the back of the other man’s throat.

And for the life of him, Delta couldn’t even begin to care about the seconds, the minutes, the schedule, because eternity is in York’s possession, and he desperately wants to be closer to it.


End file.
